


Cold Weather Blues

by molmcmahon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dragons, F/M, Gen, M/M, R plus L equals J, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: 5 Times Jon Snow and Harry Potter Huddled for Warmth and 1 Time They Didn’t Need To





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either HP or Game of Thrones. They belong to JK Rowling and GRR Martin respectively.
> 
> This is my Harry/Jon story for my Top Harry series.

The thing that woke Harry up was not his internal clock or Ron waking him up or Madam Pomfrey checking on him but the feeling that he was on fire. He jolted awake, his fingers curling in the sheets of the hospital bed, and startled at the sight that appeared to him. There was fire on his fingertips. Small sparks of flame flowed between his fingers and he sat there, shocked.

“Harry?”

“Mate! You’re awake! I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey,” Ron whispered, getting up off the chair by his bed.

“Harry?”

“What happened? Why am I… on fire?” Harry muttered, feeling heat slither throughout his body. It wasn’t uncomfortable warmth but it felt… normal now. It felt… nice.

“You…” Hermione trailed off, her eyes narrowed in thought. “You’ve been asleep for four days. You brought Ginny out of the chamber four days ago and you’ve been unconscious ever since. Madam Pomfrey tried to wake you up but you weren’t waking up. Even Professor Dumbledore tried.”

“I’ve been asleep for four days? When did you get woken up?”

“Professor Sprout woke up everyone yesterday. I--”

“Mr Potter, how are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, walking over with Ron at her side.

“I’m on fire,” Harry answered, shrugging a little. “How do you think I’m feeling?”

Ron’s lips twitched up into a small grin before he went over to the chair beside Harry’s bed and sat down again.

Madam Pomfrey stared at him before sighing. “I’ve not been able to figure out what is wrong with you exactly, Harry. There is not a single book that describes your symptoms. I would try taking a deep breath and relaxing. If that does not work, we will have to bring in specialists.”

Harry’s eyes widened, his body freezing.

Poppy looked at him before her eyes softened. “Do you feel anything else?”

“I’m warm,” Harry commented, shaking his head in disbelief. “More warm than usual.”

Poppy blinked and Hermione’s eyes lit up in interest.

Harry looked down at both of his hands, at the fingers on both. There were still sparks of flame hovering over his fingertips and he did as Poppy suggested, took a deep breath and relaxed. He sank back down to the mattress, inhaled, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled, clenching his hands into fists. He reopened his subconsciously closed his eyes to no fire though he still felt like he was warm, warmer than he had been before he had killed the basilisk.

  


* * *

 

 

Harry’s last night in the infirmary was boring, only broken up by the appearance of one phoenix. Fawkes crooned out lightly, perching on the foot of the bed, and peering at him curiously. Harry raised an eyebrow at the fire bird, glanced to where his holly wand was on the bedside table then turned back to the bird.

“Fawkes?”

The phoenix hopped down onto the bed, sitting perched between Harry’s legs and nosed at him through the blankets.

_Westeros needs a phoenix of its own. Learn._

“What.”

Fawkes stared at him, unblinking, before beginning to sing, his phoenix magic encompassing him.

“Fawkes, do you mean… am I becoming…” Harry trailed off, a strangled yelp leaving his throat as he felt himself tingling, his magic almost vibrating. In the next instant, he disappeared, reappearing in a wooded area with snow on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon held his broken arm to his chest as he leaned against the weirwood tree behind him, shivering slightly despite the cloak around himself. Robb had left to go get Lady Catelyn and Maester Luwin but Jon knew… Lady Catelyn would delay sending the maester, mayhaps for a while. Afterall, Jon was just a bastard child. A Snow. The physical evidence of Lord Stark’s dishonor.

A startled cry drew his attention outward, his eyes widening at what he saw. A boy had just appeared out of nowhere in the Winterfell godswood. A boy who Jon did not recognize or know. The boy seemed to be the same age as Jon, maybe ten and two, with shaggy black hair and green eyes as soon as he glanced up at Jon.

And a scar. Jon’s eyes narrowed at the scar on the boy’s forehead, noting that the scar looked like a lightning bolt, like one of the bolts that came with a summer storm.

“Who are you?” The boy asked, his green eyes wide. “And where am I?”

Pain shot through his right arm as he accidentally moved it and he decided to stay put, regardless of whether or not the boy needed help. “I’m Jon Snow. Who are you?”

“Harry. Where… Is this the Forbidden Forest? No, it couldn’t be. It’s not winter...”

“Forbidden Forest?” Jon echoed, tilting his head in confusion. “What’s that?”

The boy, Harry, stood up and walked over to Jon’s side, sitting down in front of him. “It’s a Forest.”

Jon snorted. “How’d you just appear?”

“I… I don’t know,” Harry answered, shivering a little at a strong blast of wind hit them. “A… friend of mine… sent me here, I think. I didn’t know that phoenixes could send people places. Where are we anyway?”

“Winterfell. The godswood. How come you don’t know this place?”

“Winterhell? What’s a Winterhell?”

Jon blinked then laughed. “ _Winterfell._ It’s a castle. It’s where Lord and Lady Stark live.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking of. It’s cold here though.”

“If you’re… not from around here, can you get back to wherever you’re from? Wait… You said phoenixes. What...”

“They’re fire birds,” Harry said, glancing at him. His green eyes lit with curiosity and a question.

Jon stared at Harry then shrugged, lifting up his cloak with his left arm and Harry immediately understood, shuffling closer until they were right next to one another. The Stark cloak covered them both, shielding them from the moderate snowfall and wind. “Fire birds?”

“Yeah, don’t you have them here, wherever Winterfell is?”

“No. We had dragons…” Jon trailed off, leaning more into the other boy. “They were kind of fire birds, I suppose.”

“Dragons. We have dragons too, where I’m from. Though they’re wild and dangerous and like to eat people. They are also people who like to study them. I think my best friend’s brother studies dragons.”

“You have dragons where you’re from?”

“Yeah. You _had_ dragons?”

“They died off hundreds of years ago. The Targaryens too though Lord Stark does not like to talk about the Rebellion.”

“Targaryen?”

“House Targaryen. It’s one of the houses, like House Stark.”

“What… what is this country called?”

“Westeros.”

Harry stilled next to him, equally leaning into Jon though he was careful to not touch Jon’s right arm. “Why is your last name Snow? Is that a common last name? Is your mother’s last name Snow?”

Jon sighed, ready to hear his new friend withdraw from his side just because Jon was a bastard. “It’s the last name that bastards receive when they’re born in the North.”

“Bastard? Like your parents weren’t married?”

Jon nodded, turning to glance at Harry to check his reaction.

“So your parents weren’t married. What’s the big deal?”

Jon’s eyes widened.

Harry turned to look at him too, his green eyes wide. “You’re implying that bastards are treated differently here.”

“We are. Our parents didn’t marry. Lord Stark brought dishonor to his family when he got with a woman.”

“Jon.”

“Aren’t bastards treated like they’re inferior in your world?”

Harry shook his head, his eyes bright with something akin to dislike. “No. At least, I don’t think so. My parents were married before they died but if they hadn’t and still had me, I still would have been a Potter.”

“Your parents are dead too?”

“Yes. Yours?”

“I don’t know who my mother is,” Jon said, shrugging a little before peering up at the keep, at where Lady Catelyn Stark and Lord Eddard Stark were. The keep where Robb, Sansa, Rickon, Bran and Arya were. His half siblings. “Lord Stark changes the subject whenever I ask.”

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s the way it is,” Jon spoke. “At least, Lord Stark lets me live in Winterfell with his family. Most bastards don’t even get that. Lady Stark is the only one who treats me as… inferior. Doesn’t let me sit with the family at feasts, doesn’t talk directly to me...”

“It sounds like… well,” Harry went silent at Jon’s glance, his eyes going soft a little. “My aunt and uncle treat me like I’m inferior too.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m a wizard and they don’t like that.”

Jon stared. “Pardon?”

“I’m a wizard?”

Harry grinned at whatever Jon’s expression was and pulled out something from a pocket, a thin piece of wood. “My wand. It’s holly wood and phoenix feather.”

Jon continued to stare. “You have magic?”

Harry nodded, glancing down at Jon’s broken arm. “I would try to heal your arm but I have no healing experience and trust me, you need someone with experience. Ugh.”

“What?”

“One of my… Wizards and witches where I’m from go to school, learn how to cast magic,” Harry explained. “This year, one of the professors was… not a professional. He tried to heal my broken arm a few months ago and only removed all of the bones in it.”

Jon grimaced, glancing down at his left arm and holding it closer to his chest. “I would rather not then.”

Harry grinned again and was about to say something else when Jon spotted Robb and Maester Luwin.

“Jon!”

Harry stilled.

“It’s okay. It’s only Robb and Maester Luwin,” Jon said.

Robb ran up to them, his eyes going wide at Harry’s appearance. “Who’s that?”

“This is Harry,” Jon introduced, as Luwin knelt at their feet and looked him over.

“Broken arm?”

Jon nodded.

“We were playing on the tree,” Robb whispered, his Tully blue eyes looking Harry over in suspicion.

“He’s okay,” Jon added, taking Robb’s offer of help by taking his outstretched hand. Robb pulled him up, letting Jon lean on him.

Harry stood up too, shivered once and then stood still. “So this is Westeros then.”

Jon nodded. “Can you get home?”

“I don’t know. Fawkes just sent me…” Harry trailed off.

As Jon watched, Harry started to spark with flame, little flickers of fire running over the boy before Harry disappeared before their very eyes.

  


* * *

 

 

“What the hell, Fawkes?” Harry grumbled, reappearing in the infirmary of Hogwarts. The phoenix was perched by the foot of the bed and was staring at him, unblinking. “Why send me to Westeros?”

_You and Jon. Your destinies are intertwined by your song._

“Okay, that means absolutely nothing to me. Besides, Jon looked miserable. What’s up with the bastards there?”

_You two have prophecies about one another. Westeros will need you and Jon in a few years’ time._

Harry glared at Fawkes. “We’re from two different worlds, Fawkes.”

_That changes nothing. The Song of Ice and Fire begins._


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat on his bed, shivering in the aftermath of the dementor attack. Though he was more or less sure it wasn’t the cold that was making him shiver. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was the aftermath of facing two dementors in alley just beyond Privet Drive. Or maybe it was that he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the graveyard and Voldemort.  

Dudley had been taken to the muggle hospital just a few hours ago and Harry had already received word that he had been expelled from Hogwarts and then told he would receive a trial. Finally, Dumbledore had sent a letter saying he wasn’t to be expelled and to stay at his house.

Hedwig chirped, fluttering her wings on her perch and drawing him from his thoughts. He shivered again and then a bright flash made him shield his eyes. The flash reminded him of when he had traveled to Westeros three years ago, sent to that foreign land by Fawkes. Harry had long since become a phoenix himself, more creature than human. 

“Harry?”

Harry stilled then stood up, turned around, his eyes widening when he saw Jon standing in the other corner of his room. Jon had a thick cloak around his shoulders, one with an animal pelt at the neck. “Jon? What…”

 

* * *

 

 

Jon blinked, looking around at the strange room before him. Harry stood in front of the bed at the other end of the room, shivering a little despite the warmth that surrounded the room. It was an odd looking set of rooms, one that held a weird looking lamp and a perch with an owl on it. The snowy owl hooted quietly then started to preen, grooming its’ feathers.

“Harry? Where am I?”

“You… You’re in my room,” Harry spoke, more than a little wearily. He sounded off though it wasn’t like they really knew each other. This was only the second time that they had seen each other. “How… Fawkes?”

“Do you mean a fox brought me here?”

Harry sighed, shook his head, shivered again. “No. I mean a phoenix. Fawkes sent me to Westeros three years ago and apparently… Did you see a fire bird right above you a few seconds before?”

“Aye, I did. Does this… Fawkes fly between our worlds? I have not seen anything like this in Westeros,” Jon remarked, bringing his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “However, I haven’t been to many lands south of Winterfell.”

“We’re not in Westeros,” Harry answered, sitting down and patting the space beside him in invitation. “This is… England.”

“England. What country is that?” Jon asked as he walked over to the bed and sat down next to Harry. He took a peek out of the small glass window behind them and didn’t see snow or rain or any of the weather that he had left in Winterfell. “And why are you shivering?”

“I… It’s a relatively long story,” Harry spoke, turning to look at Jon. His green eyes were weary, haunted. 

“What is that?”

Harry peered over to where Jon was pointing, at the car in the driveway at the neighbor’s house. “It is how people in my world get around, how they travel. We call those things cars.”

“Not horses?”

“Not horses. Not any longer anyway. We wizards don’t use them though. We either fly, use the floo or use a portkey.” 

“A portkey?”

“An object that we spell to take us places and the floo is like… using a magical tunnel,” Harry explained, shuffling closer to Jon. 

Jon grinned a little. “You’re just using me for my cloak.”

“I might be,” Harry responded, smiling a little, and closing the distance between them. 

“Why is your Fawkes doing this? I’m not anyone special and you’re a wizard.”

Harry visibly hesitated before talking, grimacing. “Fawkes only said a few words about why. I don’t really know what he meant by them though. Something about a prophecy between us. Just to add on to the prophecy that I already have too… The bird’s an asshole is what he is.”

Jon blinked, letting out an unexpected huff of laughter. “I did not know that phoenixes could talk.”

“I didn’t either.”

“What did Fawkes say?”

“Something about the Song of Ice and Fire,” Harry grumbled, shrugging a little and rustling the cloak that wrapped around them both. Jon was enjoying the closeness, more than able to feel Harry’s extra warmth through the fabric. He knew that Robb, Bran, Rickon, and Arya didn’t think twice about him being a bastard but Harry didn’t even blink an eye about being close. Hadn’t thought twice, not even when they had first met three years ago. “It’s ridiculous, I know. And here I am, the apparent Chosen One set to bring about Voldemort’s death and downfall.”

“Voldemort?”

“Again, long story.”

“I do not know when your phoenix… is taking me back. He will take me back, right?”

“I certainly think so. If not, I might be able to.”

Jon turned to look at Harry, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry studied him before holding out a hand. A ball of flame appeared on Harry’s open palm and Jon stared. The crackling of the embers in Harry’s open palm were the only noise in the room for a few minutes. The glow of the fire lit up the room and then Harry closed his fingers over the fire, extinguishing it.

“I presume that that is not something normal wizards can do.”

“No. It’s because I spend a whole lot of time in the infirmary. Fawkes decided to do something about it,” Harry replied quietly. “I’m becoming a phoenix. Ah well. It’s me. Anything new with you?”

“Not really. I am still a bastard,” Jon responded, watching as the owl hooted again, flew over to the bed and landed next to Harry. “I am thinking about joining the Night’s Watch. Even bastards can rise to a high position there. In Winterfell, I wouldn’t inherit anything, not even captain of the guards or master at arms.”

“Night’s Watch? What is that?”

“The Night’s Watch is an order of men who guard the realm from threats in the north,” Jon said.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry watched as Jon’s eyes lit up as he spoke. “Threats? What kind of threats?”

“The Watch has castles all along the Wall and they guard against wildling raids,” Jon explained. “I would take the black and guard the realm right alongside other great men, nobles and knights.”

“Wildlings?”

“Free folk who live beyond the Wall. They do not have lords or ladies. They just do as they please.”

Harry nodded. “Are there many wildling raids? This stone wall sounds--”

“It’s not made of stone.”

Harry blinked, trying to imagine a wall not made of stone or concrete and failing. “Then what’s it made out of?”

“Snow and ice. People say that it was special warding against the magic from the Land of Always Winter though the Others, the White Walkers, haven’t been seen in thousands of years.”

“Okay, what are white walkers? They sound creepy.”

Jon’s lips twitched up into a small grin, thinking of the stories from the Age of Heroes. “White Walkers. Old Nan likes to tell my half brother Bran stories of them for night time tales. They are thought to be people made of ice, with blue skin and icy blue eyes. They wield ice swords that break all other swords.”

“That… I would not want to face any White Walker. They sound scarier than dementors.”

“Dementors?”

Harry sighed. “They’re creatures of my world, the magical world. They’re cloaked in black and they hover in the air, sucking your soul out and making you remember your worst memory. Wherever they go, cold follows.”

Jon shivered, tightening his cloak about the both of them. “Sounds terrible.”

“I just fought off two of them a few hours ago. Thankfully, a professor taught me how.”

“That’s why you were shivering when I arrived.”

“Yes.”

“How’d you fight them?”

“There’s a spell, one that brings a patronus to chase them off,” Harry answered. “I would cast it again to show you but I’m already in trouble for casting it around my cousin.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, a silent question in his grey eyes.

“We’re not supposed to do magic around non magic folk,” Harry said, grimacing, yawning a little. The fight had taken a lot of energy out of him and the walk back carrying Dudley had taken even more. “There’s a lot of rules for us. Granted, I suppose I understand them.”

“There are a lot of rules in my land. Rules for lords and ladies, rules for knights and smallfolk. Rules for bastards,” Jon spoke, sighing.

“You should change that,” Harry commented, sliding out from under Jon’s cloak when he heard the sound of a car driving up. 

Jon stared at him then shook his head. “It’s not that easy. Bastards aren’t well thought of in most places.”

“It can’t be worse than living in a cupboard for your childhood.”

“What.”

“You should go. Fawkes!”

A flash of light proceeded Fawkes appearing in the room, peering at the both of them then hovering over Jon. 

“Harry, what did you mean by that?”

“It’s not a big deal. Go! I don’t want my aunt and uncle to see you.”

Jon frowned, his eyes narrowing.

Harry stiffened, rolled his eyes. “Not like that, Jon. They don’t like me on the best of occasions. Having a guest over would push their buttons even more tonight.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“I will. I have my ways. I think my friends will come get me.”

Jon stared at him then nodded up at Fawkes. Harry watched as both Jon and Fawkes disappeared in another flash of light at the last minute. The car outside parked in the driveway and he could hear his relatives. They were grumbling about having a nephew who was weird and strange and awful. 

Harry shrugged and lay down in his bed, thinking about what the future and his trial would bring.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon was just saddling his horse, listening to Robb, Theon and Bran do the same, when Harry arrived next. It was late morning, just before the midday meal, that Lord Stark had received word that a deserter of the Night’s Watch had just been caught. Lord Stark had asked for them to come along, to show what it was that he did.

“ _ The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” _

“Where are we going?”

Jon blinked, turned away from his horse to see Harry standing next to him. “Harry.”

Jon’s friend looked wary, haunted, and like he hadn’t really slept in a long time. His black hair had grown even longer, reaching Harry’s shoulders, and he was wearing a cloak over worn clothes. “Jon.”

“What… What’s happening with you?” Jon questioned, peering over to look out at where Robb, Bran and Theon were. They weren’t paying any attention to Jon and Harry and he turned back to look at his friend. “You look…”

“Like I’ve been fighting a war?”

“Aye. Is Voldemort…”

“I’m certainly trying to kill him,” Harry offered, his lips twitching up into a small but weary grin. “The man split his soul into seven pieces.”

Jon blanched, taking a step towards Harry. “That does not sound at all good.”

Harry snorted, shrugging a bit. “It’s not. What’s happening here?”

“There was a deserter from the Night’s Watch. Lord Stark suggested that Robb, Bran and I come along.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Deserter? Come along to what?”

“Deserters are executed for breaking their vows,” Jon explained, checking his horse’s tack and making sure everything fit. “It’s what happens to every deserter. Lord Stark kills them with a clean swipe of Ice.”

“Hmmm.”

“You think I could come along?”

“If you wanted. Did Fawkes bring you this time?” Jon asked, as he led his horse out of the stall. Harry followed, falling into step with him.

“No. Fawkes is a little… preoccupied,” Harry spoke, as they caught up to Robb and the others. “He only dropped in to say that I should go to Westeros right the fuck now.”

Jon blinked, grinning a little at Harry’s words. 

“Harry. You dropped in again,” Robb called out, turning to look at the two of them.

“Robb. Good to see you,” Harry responded. “Nice break to my war.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed and Jon stepped a bit closer to Harry, enjoying the heat that was radiating off the young man. 

“Anyway, I’ll fly with you,” Harry said, as the four of them walked into the courtyard. “It’s been a while since I’ve shifted. And I get anxious if I don’t shift for awhile.”

Jon looked over to where Lord Stark was already mounted, the Stark lord already peering over at Harry. 

“I haven’t seen you shift at all,” Jon said, studying Harry. “I didn’t know you could shift. Is it like warging?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, shook his head. “Warging?”

“Old Nan’s tales,” Robb explained, mounting his horse. “People who can see through animal’s eyes.”

“No. It’s nothing like that,” Harry said, his eyes lit up with excitement. 

Jon’s heart did a flip in his chest at the way Harry looked in the mid morning sun then a flash of something… Power encompassed Harry and between one minute and the next, Harry flickered and then changed. A big, golden bird rose up into the air, hovering right where Harry had been. The bird was red and on fire, its’ wings flaring with sparks of flame.

“Harry?”

The bird… phoenix trilled lightly, dipped its’ beak, and rose up into the sky, perching on the stable door. 

_ Ready when you are. _

“Is that…”

_ Yes, it’s me. _

Jon stared, his heart beating roughly, like he had just run a mile.  “You’re beautiful.”

Harry peered down at him, his wings fluttering in the slight morning breeze, and crooned happily.

Jon felt his cheeks redden as he realized what he had just said, his heart skipping a beat. “Does it… hurt to shift?”

_ No. It feels lighter and I’m certainly warmer now. I was shivering a little in the few moments before now.  _

“You would have needed a cloak,” Jon murmured, shrugging. “And we’re too big to share.”

_ Try me. _

Jon snorted and pointed towards the gate. “We’re going North, to where guards have the deserter. Tell me about what has happened between the last time I saw you and now.”

_ That is going to be a long story, Jon. It’s been a year and a half.  _

“Jon!” Lord Stark called out, his grey eyes still staring at Harry. “Who is this?”

Jon watched as Lord Stark rode over, already ahorse, and he mounted his own horse, a black mare. Harry as the phoenix trilled out quietly, flying up to perch on the stable roof above them. 

“Lord Stark, this is Harry,” Jon started, gesturing to his friend. “He’s… called a phoenix.”

Lord Eddard Stark blinked, looking between Jon and Harry. Robb and Theon came over, both of them already mounted on their own horses. 

“I met him a few years ago, father,” Robb explained, his blue eyes wide. “But he couldn’t… What do you call it?”

_ Shape shift. _

When Robb continued to stare, Jon’s eyes widened and he repeated what Harry had said. “I think you can only talk to me… Why…”

Harry as the phoenix blinked, his golden eyes lit with fire from within.  _ Huh. I had not expected that. Perhaps it’s the prophecy that Fawkes talked about. It’s connecting only the two of us. If it’s not that, I don’t know why I can’t talk to the others.  _

“A phoenix,” Lord Stark repeated, staring at Harry before paling. “You look as if you’re on fire. Are you of a certain house?”

Harry answered in Jon’s mind and he answered his lord father. “No. He’s not from around here. He came to visit when you were fighting the ironborn.”

“That was several years ago,” Lord Stark commented, dropping his hands down to his saddle and taking the reins of the horse. “He means us no harm?”

Jon vehemently shook his head. “No, my lord. Harry’s just a friend.”

“Very well.  You can talk to him while he’s in this other form?” Lord Stark questioned, peering up at the bird. Harry was still perched on the roof.

“He thought it was due to a prophecy.”

Lord Stark froze in his saddle, staring at Jon. “A prophecy.”

Jon nodded, wondering why that startled his father. Mayhaps Lord Stark knew of the prophecy that Harry had mentioned.

“Alright. Move out,” Lord Stark called out, urging his horse towards the gate. Ser Rodrik followed, with a few Stark guardsmen riding with him.

Jon urged his horse after Robb and Theon’s, watching as Harry took off, flying a few feet above them. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Harry flew onward, following Jon, Robb and Theon in the air. He stretched his wings out and really flew, enjoying being in his other form. He flew over Winterfell, remembering appearing here during second year. It was as beautiful as Hogwarts looked, with drifts of snow over it and the early morning sun shining down on it. It was also… He wished he could stay here forever and not go back to England to deal with Voldemort. If only Dumbledore had done more to counter the Dark Lord. 

The group rode for an hour before slowing and Harry saw Jon wave him down, towards a clearing. He started to circle down, looking over the other party of Stark guardsmen that were already there. The wolf banner flew in the wind and he could see one man that had his hands bound, who must have been the deserter.

He landed on a stump of a tree and shifted back to two legs, walking over to Jon’s side. Robb, Theon and Bran stood on Jon’s other side, overseeing the deserter of the Night’s Watch. There was a stump of wood in front of the deserter, one that looked an awful lot like a executioner’s block, steeped in red. 

“This is law?” Harry whispered, looking to Jon. 

“Men of the Night’s Watch take vows,” Robb explained, sparing a glance for Harry before watching his father. 

“You want to join the Night’s Watch, right?” Harry asked, hearing the deserter say something as Theon walked up to Ned to give him Ice. 

“Yes. I don’t belong here. It’s like you and at your aunt’s home,” Jon whispered, shrugging minutely. “I can even rise up in the ranks there whereas here I wouldn’t become anything.”

“...White walkers, I saw’em. Others…”

Harry blinked, turned towards the deserter, to where he was being walked to the block. “Wait.”

Jon, Robb, Theon and Lord Stark all turned to him. Lord Stark raised an eyebrow.

“Harry?”

“Aren’t White Walkers extinct?” Harry questioned, walking up to the deserter and crossing his arms.

“They are,” Jon said, coming up to stand next to him. 

“They are just legends. No one has seen a White Walker in thousands of years,” Lord Stark remarked, crossing his arms. 

Harry studied Lord Eddard Stark, raised an eyebrow. “In my home world, everyone thought a certain man was dead when he really wasn’t. It led to another war. Let me try something, just in case the man’s telling the truth?”

“Deserters say anything to explain why they did what they did,” Lord Stark said, drawing Ice from where Theon held it. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed but dropped back to where Robb and Bran were, but not before he dropped his hand into his pocket for his wand and whispered a spell. A spell of memory.  Jon came back with him and turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

_ Can you hear me even on two legs? _

Jon’s eyes widened but he nodded slightly, as they both turned to watch Lord Stark slice cleanly through the man’s neck.

 

* * *

 

 

They brought back direwolf puppies on their trip back to Winterfell, one puppy for each kid. Jon held an albino puppy in his arms, one as white as a… “Ghost.”

_ It’s a good name. Ghost.  _

Harry flew down from the branch he was perched on, the walls of Winterfell just a mile away, and hovered alongside Jon’s horse. The direwolf pup peered up at the fire bird next to him and tilted his head in confusion. Jon grinned and stroked the wolf’s fur, peering over at his half brother’s pup. Robb held his own puppy and one for Sansa. Theon held the pup for Arya while Bran held one for Rickon. Rickon’s pup was the only other one with red eyes, the other being Ghost.

“You never talked of your year and a half,” Jon remarked, as they rode through the winter town in front of the walls. 

_ Voldemort’s obviously back. _

“Aye. You said as much. Is there to be war then?”

Harry turned his beak towards him, staring at him pointedly.  _ Unless you want him to kill me. It’s kill or be killed. _

Jon shook his head. “Of course not. You said something about Voldemort splitting his soul.”

_ It’s how he lived when I was one and a half. He had other pieces of his soul elsewhere. I don’t recommend it though. We think he lived as a bodiless spirit for several years. _

“Seven hells.” Jon wrinkled his nose at Harry’s words. “Mayhaps I could join you if you need help?”

They finally made it through Winterfell’s gates and everyone pulled their horses to a stop. Arya came racing out of the hall and stopped at the sight before her, her eyes widening. 

“Puppies?”

“Direwolf puppies,” Robb said, grinning and gesturing to Theon. “Theon has yours.”

Arya’s eyes widened even more and she raced over to Theon, who rolled his eyes and handed over the pup in his arms. Arya cradled the puppy as Sansa and Lady Catelyn walked out, Rickon following them.

_ Are you sure? It’s war and chaos and… _

Jon turned to look at Harry, crossed his arms. “I am sure. I’m fair good with a blade. You’re my friend, Harry.”

“He is too,” Robb remarked, walking over to them. Robb’s pup was reaching up to lick his face and Harry watched as Robb grinned, stroked the puppy’s ears. “I’m naming mine Grey Wind. What is this about a war?”

“I’m in the middle of a war back home,” Harry offered, reaching to let Ghost sniff him. The white direwolf pup reached out to sniff him and then licked his fingers, his red eyes catching Harry’s. “A bad one too.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

“The king’s coming.”

“King Robert Baratheon,” Jon explained, as they walked through the hallways dodging servants. “His wife, Queen Cersei, is a Lannister and no one likes the Lannisters.”

It was slightly snowing out, the light snowfall drizzling down onto the ground. Harry had chosen to stay one more day and this morning had been one for a summer storm, frequent in the North but not in the South. Harry shivered slightly and took a deep breath, reaching for his inner flame and drawing it out. 

“You’re glowing,” Jon said, surprise and a little awe in his voice. “Is that… fire?”

“It is. I am a phoenix after all. I was cold,” Harry spoke, shrugging as they stopped by a window. Flames were licking all over his skin, the heat keeping him warm. “I just can’t touch anyone when I do this.”

Jon stared and nodded, peering down at Ghost as the puppy wove between their legs. “When are you leaving?”

“I should leave in a few hours,” Harry said, glancing down to the courtyard to where Arya was playing with her pup, Nymeria. “I have pieces of Voldemort’s soul to look for.”

Jon grimaced. 

“Jon!”

They turned to look down the hallway, to where Robb had appeared when Jon’s hand brushed Harry’s arm, going right through the small flames. Jon froze and Harry stilled, both of them staring down at where Jon’s arm had passed.

“Are you… hurt?” Harry finally asked, his eyes wide.

Jon slowly shook his head, peered down at his hand and turning it over. There was no burn, not even a single patch of red. “What… What does this mean?”

“I’m… not sure,” Harry whispered, reaching out to take Jon’s hand and looking it over himself. “I could ask Fawkes when I next see him but this… Even my friends have burned their hands when my flames are out.”

Jon paled, his eyes going to a point beyond Harry. 

“Jon?”

“Targaryens.”

“What does your non-burned hand have to do with House Targaryen?” Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow. “The Targaryens are extinct, aren’t they?”

“I… I don’t know.” Jon stared at him, his grey eyes narrowed. “Targaryens were known to not get burned. Or at least some of them.”

Harry blinked, glanced to his hand, where it was still in Harry’s palm. Jon’s cheeks warmed and he quickly pulled his hand away, his heart skipping a beat at the touch. “Are you saying… What are you saying? I thought you knew your father was Lord Stark.”

“It’s impossible. Lord Stark never met Queen Rhaella,” Jon muttered, his eyes still wide. 

“You could go ask Lord Stark,” Harry finally suggested, watching as Robb walked over to them. 

“Come with me?” 

“Sure. I still have time here.”

“Jon? Harry?” Robb looked between them, raising an eyebrow at their behavior when they were both silent. “I was going to go over to practice. Care to join me?”

“Later? I have some questions for Lord Stark,” Jon remarked, looking at Harry before he turned to Robb. 

“Questions about… what?” Robb echoed, bewilderment plain in his voice.

“About my father,” Jon said.

Robb blinked, crossed his arms. “About your father? But father is your… father.”

“Unless the Starks have some Targaryen blood in the family,” Harry said, gesturing to his own arms. 

“No, we don’t,” Robb said, shaking his head. “How… Are those actually flames?”

“My hand went right through the fire on Harry’s arms,” Jon murmured. “And I’m not burned.”

Robb stared and stared some more until Jon cleared his throat. “I’ll come with you.”

Jon nodded and led the way through Winterfell, up a few sets of stairs to Lord Stark’s solar. Robb knocked on the door and they heard Lord Eddard Stark say to come in. Jon exchanged a look with Harry, who nodded and pulled his fire back into his body, and stepped in, following Robb. The two direwolf puppies followed them in, Grey Wind next to Robb, and Ghost at Jon’s side.

Eddard Stark sat behind his desk, with Maester Luwin standing next to him. They both looked up when all three of them entered. “Jon? Robb? Harry?”

Jon stood in front of them, hesitated for a moment before starting. “Are you really my father?”

Lord Stark blinked, his mouth opening and closing before staring at Jon. “What makes you ask that particular question?”

“I had my hand in some fire,” Jon said, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t burnt.”

Maester Luwin’s eyes widened. 

“You…” Lord Stark started before sighing. “Jon, you are not a bastard.”

Harry blinked, rocked back on his heels. Jon and Robb both froze.

“You met a Targaryen?” Jon bit out, his hands curling.

Lord Stark shook his head. “No. I am not your father. Your aunt is your mother and Rhaegar Targaryen… is your father. They wed before they died.”

“I thought Rhaegar kidnapped my aunt,” Robb said, his eyes wide.

Jon was still speechless and Ghost was leaning on his left leg, offering comfort.

“No. Lyanna told me as much before she died,” Lord Stark explained. His grey eyes were narrowed in thought as he watched his son and nephew.

“I’m a Targaryen then,” Jon said, his voice faint with disbelief. “Not a Stark.”

“You have Stark blood in you, Jon,” Lord Stark offered, frowning. “You have my sister’s blood in you and you have your wolf. You may be a Targaryen but you are also a Stark.”

“You’re our cousin,” Robb spoke, turning to look at Jon, his eyes still wide. “Not our half-brother.”

“This is bad timing, with the king coming to Winterfell,” Maester Luwin remarked. “You cannot let the king learn of this.”

“You are right. Jon, Robb, Harry, you cannot speak of this in front of the king or his company. I don’t know what Robert would do if he learned who your real parents are,” Lord Stark spoke, staring at each of them in turn. “I would not like to find out.”

Robb nodded. “I can keep a secret.”

“I’ll be leaving in a few minutes anyway,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose at the thought. “Jon? Are you okay?”

“I… Could I go with you?” Jon turned to look at Harry, his grey eyes wide and his face pale.

Harry stiffened and Robb blinked.

“I’m going back to war,” Harry said, crossing his own arms. “War.”

“It beats joining the Night’s Watch,” Jon argued, his voice wavering.

“You were going to join the Night’s Watch?” Robb exclaimed, his eyes widening. “Jon!”

“I was.”

Harry studied Jon and Ghost then sighed. “Alright. You can come with me. I don’t know how long this will take though.”

“You or Fawkes can bring me back when I’m ready,” Jon said. “It’s not forever.”

“Jon...” Lord Stark started.

“I’ve made my decision,” Jon retorted. “And I can help Harry. I’ll be fine.”

“Jon…” Robb trailed off, watching as Harry reached out to grasp one of Jon’s shoulders. “Be safe?”

“I will,” Jon agreed, picking up Ghost and cradling him. 

“Hey, maybe I can get the goblins to forge a sword for you,” Harry offered, glancing over to Lord Stark and Robb. “Alright. Here we go. Oh, and maybe we can get a dragon for you too! You are a Targaryen after all.”

“Harry!” Jon exclaimed as they vanished. “I don’t want a dragon!”

The last thing Robb, Ned and Luwin heard was Harry laughing. Grey Wind whined quietly at the loss of a brother and Robb scooped up his direwolf, stroking his ears.

“How will we explain this to mother?” Robb questioned, looking over at his father and Luwin.

Ned blinked, paling. “I will think of something to tell her.”


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione raised an eyebrow as Harry appeared again the next day but with company. She exchanged glances with Ron, whose eyes were as wide as hers.“Harry?”

The man who had appeared with Harry was of pale skin and dark hair too but he had grey eyes, where Harry had green. The young man looked to be their age, 17, and as tall as Harry was. The guy was holding something wriggly in his arms and Hermione’s eyes widened as the guy lowered… a white wolf pup down to the floor of Grimmauld Place. A white wolf pup with red eyes.

“Oh, sorry, Hermione, Ron. This is Jon,” Harry explained, gesturing to his friend. “He’s my best friend, the one I’ve been visiting when I disappear.”

“Oi, mate! Your best friend? I thought I was your best friend,” Ron teased, grinning.

“My best friend in Westeros,” Harry corrected, glancing to where Jon was. “Jon, this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. We’re in Grimmauld Place now, the place I told you about a few years ago, where my godfather lived.”

“Sirius? He died, didn’t he?” Jon questioned, looking the place over. “It’s a big home. It’s a pleasure to meet Harry’s other friends. He’s told me a little about you.”

“He didn’t think it was that big,” Harry muttered then sighed. “And that’s Ghost, the direwolf.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Direwolf? Harry, what is this Westeros you keep talking about? You travel using your phoenix abilities, right?”

Harry nodded, watching as Ghost explored the room they were in. He made a mental note to talk to Kreacher about the pup and hopefully the house elf would be able to get some meat for the pup to eat. “I do. Westeros is a whole other world.”

“Harry says Westeros is unlike your world,” Jon remarked, glancing at Hermione. “Our worlds differ in regards to seasons.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up at Jon’s words. “How different?”

“Seasons. They have seasons that last several years,” Harry explained, shrugging and reaching down to let Ghost come to him and lick his fingers.

“Winters that last several years?” Ron echoed, his nose wrinkling. “I don’t like the sound of that. Though the opportunity for multiple snowball fights would increase, I suppose.”

“Arya takes advantage of it,” Jon said, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “I came to help Harry in his fight against this Voldemort. I may not be a wizard like him or you but I am a fair hand with a sword.”

“On that note… Hermione, do you think we could get the goblins to forge a sword for him?” Harry asked, turning to look at his friend. Hermione was kneeling down and Ghost trotted over to her, peering up at her, then licking her outstretched palm.

“You’re not a wizard?” Hermione said, looking between the two young men. “Then how can you… see this place?”

Harry blinked and looked at Jon, catching his eyes. “I… hadn’t thought about that.”

“Harry…” Hermione sighed.

“I can see a home?” Jon said, lifting his shoulders in a minute shrug. His Stark cloak was still around his body and Harry could see his black tunic and sword belt. “Is there more to see?”

“No. It’s just a home filled with books about dark magic and antiques and one grumpy house elf,” Ron answered, crossing his arms.

“Ron! Kreacher can’t help it! He’s old and has been in a house full of pure bloods,” Hermione retorted.

“Perhaps it’s our connection,” Harry offered, shaking his head. “Or perhaps it’s your Targaryen blood.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Pure bloods?”

“Oh… That is a long story,” Harry said, yawning a little. Travel between worlds always exhausted him. “We’ll go to the goblins tomorrow, under disguises, and see about a blade for you.”

  


* * *

 

 

“What are these horcruxes?” Jon whispered, as they walked over to the front steps of Gringotts. The misty fog in the street seemed to follow them as they walked, curling around them and weaving. The fog hid the sun from view but it wasn’t chilly or cold. “You told me a little about them before.”

Jon’s eyes stayed wide as they traveled through Diagon Alley, the place Harry had said that wizards and witches bought supplies. It was a bit like the market in the Winter town but it was crowded and… There were owls zooming above the buildings and people wearing pointy hats walking in the alley. Though not as much as usual, Harry had said. There was a war on after all.

“They’re pieces of Voldemort’s soul,” Harry explained quietly, as he opened the door. They had left Ghost at Grimmuald Place, with Hermione promising to look after the pup, a little after 6 am. “Jon, goblins… They’re… Just don’t stare. They’re… I suppose they could look like some of the children of the forest.”

Jon nodded, his eyes wide as they entered the bank. “I’ve never been to the Iron Bank of Braavos but I would imagine this looks very much like it.”

Harry looked around at all of the goblins then headed over to Ragnok, whom he had met a few times in the past. He had dyed his hair blond with just a tap of his wand before they left, put some dirt on his scar, and Jon was under the invisibility cloak.

“Ragnok?”

The goblin blinked and then peered over at him, eyes widening, and then gestured them past the desks. Harry raised an eyebrow but followed the head goblin into a back room. There was a desk in the back, with two chairs in front of it. There was also two other doors in the room, one at the back and one on the left.

“Mr Harry Potter. How can I help?”

“I was wondering if you could forge a sword?” Harry questioned, studying the goblin and glancing back into the main hall of the bank. They wouldn’t have long here as Harry didn’t want to stay in one place too long. They had to get started on horcrux hunting.

Ragnok stared at him, his eyes narrowing. “For you?”

“For me,” Jon said, drawing off the cloak and staring down at the fabric as he did. “If Arya had a hold of this… I would want to be on the other end of the castle for that.”

Harry grinned. “I would too.”

“You are not a wizard,” Ragnok remarked, taking a step closer to Jon, who stayed very still.

“No.”

Ragnok took a deep breath, inhaling for a long minute. “You have dragon blood in you.”

Jon’s eyes widened, paling. “Yes. How did you…”

“Goblins have strong senses of smell,” Ragnok said, looking over to Harry. “You are taking a big risk in coming here now.”

“He needs a weapon,” Harry argued, crossing his arms.

Ragnok stared at them both, his eyes not even moving. “We will forge a sword for him the likes of which haven’t been seen since Gryffindor’s sword. It will be ready in a few hours.”

Harry blinked, glanced to Jon, who shrugged, then he turned back to the goblin. “Alright. Just don’t tell anyone we’re here.”

Ragnok grimaced, his dark eyes hard. “We goblins will not tell anyone you are here. Our customers however… You can stay here in this room while we work.”

Harry nodded, watched as Ragnok left the room through a back door and sat down in one of the chairs, with Jon walking over to sit down on the chair opposite.

“Are you okay?” Harry finally asked a minute later, able to feel the wards around this room and space. “You made that decision to come with me quickly enough.”

Jon’s eyes shuttered briefly before he sighed. “I never felt like I belonged in Winterfell or was really, truly a Stark.”

“Your mother was a Stark, Jon,” Harry offered, before shaking his head. “You just aren’t a Stark in name.”

“I always thought I was a bastard.”

“You had no reason to believe otherwise. Your father… uncle didn’t tell you.”

Jon stared. “I wonder… Would he have ever told me? I had planned on going to join the Night’s Watch. Would he have told me then? Lady Catelyn never spoke favorably towards me either. She probably would have liked the idea of me in the Night’s Watch, never to prove a threat towards Robb’s inheritance.”

“You like your cousins though. Robb’s a good man,” Harry retorted, moving his chair over to sit next to Jon.

“Aye, I do. I would never steal Winterfell from Robb. Lady Catelyn’s never liked me, Harry. She’s much like your aunt and uncle.”

“Unless she had you beaten…”

Jon blinked, his eyes narrowing. “They had you beaten?”

“My cousin beat me himself,” Harry remarked, shivering at the memory. “You were probably treated better than me and probably treated better than most bastards.”

“Do you have to stay with your aunt and uncle anymore?”

“No. They left anyway, to escape the war,” Harry replied. “Anyway, horcruxes…”

  


* * *

 

 

Ragnok came back in three hours later, bearing a sheathed sword. The hilt of the sword was black, with the pommel being a howling wolf’s head instead of a regular round pommel. The guard looked like flames except it was grey, a little like the shade of Jon’s eyes. Jon’s eyes widened as Ragnok came to deliver the blade, handing the sword up to Jon.

“The wolf’s head…” Jon trailed off, raising an eyebrow. “How…”

“You were going to come with a direwolf pup.”

“Goblins know things,” Harry offered, at Jon’s wide eyes. “I want to see what it looks like.”

Jon grinned and drew the sword out from the sheathe, his eyes widening at the sight. The blade itself was dark red and it looked sharp. Harry watched as Jon swung it once, twice, and then held it between his two hands.

“It’s of good weight,” Jon said, his eyes still drawn to the metal. “What kind of material is this? I’ve certainly never seen Mikken use this.”

“Silver. It will never rust and will never need sharpening,” Ragnok said, his goblin dark eyes narrow and glinting. “Call it what you will.”

“What of payment?” Jon asked, taking his eyes off the blade for a minute.

“We shall take it out of Ms Lestrange’s bank vault,” Ragnok spoke, emphasizing the name while looking at Harry. “You two had best be leaving. McNair has entered the bank. You can use the back exit.”

Harry stared down at the goblin. “Ms Lestrange? You mean Bellatrix?”

“We goblins do not like to meddle, Mr Potter. You know that. I also believe you would find some interesting belongings in the Dumbledore vault.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and studied Ragnok. “Is there time for us to go check out both vaults?”

Ragnok looked up at him, his goblin dark eyes beady. “If you mean break and enter one of our vaults, no.”

Harry’s eyes widened then he sighed.

“But… there is time enough for you to take the long way out, then yes.”

Harry blinked then grinned. Ragnok gestured over to a door that had been previously hidden on their right, one that seemed to glimmer into existence. Harry nodded at the goblin head of the bank and then he and Jon walked over to the door, with Harry opening it and stepping through.

The door closed right after them and Jon stared at it and the goblin behind it. “Ragnok said that there was not time for this.”

“Goblins are tricky creatures,” Harry explained, grinning at Jon. “They don’t want the liability of someone breaking into two of their vaults but they also do not like Voldemort.”

Jon snorted, still holding his new weapon in his sword hand. “How are we to open the vaults? Lestrange and Dumbledore? I believe you said that Dumbledore was the name of your teacher?”

“Albus Dumbledore, yes. He has a brother though and a vault,” Harry said, as they started off down a well lit path. His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of potentially finding another horcrux. This would make it three horcruxes that they found, assuming it was only one. “And Lestrange… Bellatrix is Voldemort’s second in command.”

“Wife?”

Harry froze, his nose wrinkling at the thought, and Jon stilled next to him, looking Harry over.

“Ugh… Don’t even suggest that. I will not be able to unthink that,” Harry muttered, elbowing Jon. “Bellatrix is like… Ser Rodrik, I suppose.”

Jon grinned and followed Harry as they started again.

“As to opening the vaults… either Ragnok sent a goblin down to open them for us or this is a trap,” Harry said, shrugging at Jon’s wide eyes.

They continued down the path and Jon spared a look to the cavernous hall down below. It continued for miles and he didn’t even see an end to it. The sounds of carts on… “What are those?”

“Tracks,” Harry whispered, as they hurried behind a pillar to hide from a goblin and another vault owner. “The carts bring owners and goblins down to where they want to go. In our world, trains carry people from place to place quickly enough. There’s a train from London to Hogwarts that students take in the fall and the spring.”

Jon nodded, trying to imagine the kind of… vehicle that Harry talked of. “Sounds incredible.”

Harry turned to look at him, his green eyes lit with wariness. “I suppose so. A train in Westeros would make travel between… say Winterfell and King’s Landing much easier.”

They ducked out from the pillar and hurried back to the path that Ragnok had sent them on.

“It would probably put the Freys out,” Jon remarked quietly.

Harry stared at him, raised an eyebrow.

“House Frey owns the Twins, the only way to cross the river,” Jon explained.

They finally came upon one of the vaults and stopped. Jon peered up at the big stone wall, one that held gears and chains unlike anything he had ever seen.

Harry walked up to the door and reached out, tapped it once or twice before hurriedly stepping back as the door opened just a tiny bit. “This is probably Albus’ vault. I don’t know why Ragnok suggested… Fawkes has disappeared somewhere but it’s not here.”

“You were looking for Fawkes?” Jon questioned, watching as Harry stepped through the door. He followed Harry, looking over his friend’s tight shoulders and muscular body. The men and women of this world didn’t wear cloaks or anything over their strange shirts and leggings, jeans Harry had called them, so Jon could see that Harry was well fit.

“Well, Dumbledore died and I think phoenixes don’t stay in one area past their wizard or witch dying. Besides, Fawkes finished teaching me a year ago,” Harry said, as they stopped within the doorway and looked around.

Jon looked around the great vault, seeing mounds and mounds of gold and silver. His eyes widened at the amount, wondering if it overtook the amount of gold that Casterly Rock supposedly had.

“I wonder if Dumbledore left his money to someone,” Harry muttered, stepping through the aisles of the vault. “He left a snitch to me and a few items to Hermione and Ron.”

There was something in the far right corner of the vault, something that was drawing Jon over to it. He dropped his hand down to his newly made blade and walked over towards the corner, his eyes widening when he finally realized what was drawing him over. Eggs. Two of them. One of gold color, glimmering in the low light of the torches on the walls around them. The other of silver, like the color of his new blade.

“Jon?”

“You said your mentor was… connected to Fawkes?” Jon said, reaching down to trace his fingers over the blue, fossilized egg. It looked like stone and the blue… reminded Jon of the blue winter roses that grew in the North.

“Yes? Why?”

“He could travel with Fawkes, just like you did?”

Harry nodded, his eyes widening as he knelt alongside Jon. “You think my mentor traveled to Westeros?”

“Mayhaps… Or Essos…” Jon trailed off, feeling the egg warm underneath his hand. Harry reached out to lay his hand on the golden egg, his eyes widening even more.

Shouts filled the corridor outside the vault and Jon froze, exchanging a look with Harry, who reached out to grab something in his pocket and pulled it out. “Here, put the eggs in and we’ll go.”

Jon blinked before picking up the blue egg and watching as Harry opened the piece of fabric, revealing a bag.

  


* * *

 

 

The two of them quickly hurried over to the next vault on the path, one much further down into the cavernous hall, and Harry tapped at the door. It didn’t open and Jon’s eyes narrowed, keeping a watch on the other side of the tunnel.

“Harry?”

“I’m going to try something,” Harry whispered, glaring at the door before hissing out something.

Jon blinked and turned to Harry, raising an eyebrow. His heart skipped a beat at the sounds that Harry was making and he could feel his cheeks redden a little.

Harry grinned and shrugged. “Parseltongue. Language of snakes.”

The door opened, its’ gears opening with a screech. “Huh, I didn’t think that would actually work.”

Jon rolled his eyes, watched as Harry ventured inside.

  


* * *

 

 

“Ahaha!”

“Potter?!”

Jon stiffened at the high, shrill voice ahead of them. “Harry!”

“Coming,” Harry yelled, right before showing up at the door, holding a goblet in his hands. He stuffed it into the bag, along with the dragon eggs though he kept them separated. “Horcrux number three. What’s wrong?”

“A woman’s coming.”

Harry flinched, coming over to stand by Jon. “We had better move. Come on. If it’s who I think it is… we don’t want to get caught by her.”

Jon quickly followed Harry at a run, hurrying down another set of stairs and almost ran into his friend when Harry suddenly stopped.

“What…”

“Dragon,” Harry whispered, his face paling. “So that’s how they catch thieves.”

Jon peered around Harry, his eyes widening at the creature in the middle of the chamber in front of them. Harry slid around Jon’s side and pulled out his wand, muttering something. A bright blue light shot out of the piece of wood and grew, creating a wall in front of them. “That is indeed one way to catch thieves.”

A sickly strand of red light shot towards Harry’s blue shield and was swallowed by it.

Jon inched closer to the opening and poked his head out, staring at the great white beast in the center of the hall. It was a big, white dragon, one that had chains around its’ neck. The dragon breathed out a plume of fire towards the farthest corner, lighting a man on fire. The man had on a silver bone mask on his face, one that Jon remembered Harry telling him of. “Was that…”

“Yeah, Death Eater. It wasn’t Malfoy’s father though,” Harry muttered, putting a hand on Jon’s back and tugging him to the side, back behind their wall. His eyes were tight as he looked back out, his shoulders curling inward. “Any ideas?”

“You can’t… move us out?” Jon whispered, gesturing to Harry’s wand.

“You mean apparate? No. There are wards,” Harry explained, breathing out a strained sigh. “Means no portkeys or apparition.”

Jon nodded, already stepping out. Harry followed, keeping close to him and shielding them.

“You have an idea?”

“I am a Targaryen,” Jon offered, hesitant but steady.

Harry stared at him then nodded, turning to look at the dragon. “Okay. If you’re… ready.”

They ran towards the dragon, dodging another Death Eater. Jon drew his sword, keeping it at his side while Harry charmed the chains off of the dragon. A burst of red light came his way and he raised his sword up, watched as the sword appeared to glow momentarily, absorbing the spell.

Harry stared at it from where he was, his eyes narrowing with interest. “Ooh.”

Jon grinned and hastened over to the dragon, letting it look at him. There was something at the edge of his mind, a sense of the beast, though it wasn’t solid or sturdy. It was like a flickering torch, almost like this dragon wasn’t his or this wasn’t meant to be permanent. But he definitely felt curiosity and eagerness from the dragon to get out of here.

Jon watched as the dragon knelt before him then ran up the offered wing, yelling to Harry. His friend’s eyes widened before he followed Jon, mounting the white beast. Jon felt the dragon question him and Jon nodded, feeling the muscles flex beneath him. The beast was warm, almost hot, as it roared and jumped into the air. Harry whooped out while deflecting a curse back down to the witch or wizard who had cast it.

  


* * *

 

 

They flew out of the bank, over the city of London. Jon stared down at the city in awe, his eyes widening at the sheer size of it and at the numerous buildings that seemed to reach the clouds. He couldn’t really talk to Harry while they were in the air but he knew he would ask him about it the moment they landed.

The dragon seemed to be going into the country, passing over the outer city. Jon was still amazed that he was riding on a dragon. Mayhaps he really was a Targaryen.

  


* * *

 

 

Harry slipped down off the beast as they landed a few miles from Hogwarts, watching as Jon followed. His friend’s eyes were still wide, his hair windblown. The castle was far off in the distance and Harry kept an eye on their surroundings as the dragon turned to look at Jon.

“So… You do have dragon blood in you.”

Jon stared at the dragon as it looked at him, its’ tail moving slowly across the ground. “It would seem that way, yes. My father really was Rhaegar Targaryen.”

The dragon blinked its’ grey eyes and then backed up, beat its’ wings once and then jumped up into the air, flying off into the wild.

“Are you okay with that?” Harry questioned, walking over to stand next to him. “Not being a bastard or a Stark, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I’ve lived my life as a bastard and thought I was Lord Stark’s son,” Jon murmured, wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “I… I have a claim to throne, don’t I?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he nodded, one of his hands meeting Jon’s. Their fingers entwined and Jon breathed a sigh of relief at the touch. “I guess you do.”

  


* * *

 

 

They returned to Grimmauld Place to Hermione, Ron and Ghost’s relief. Ghost came up to Jon and sniffed him, his red eyes flashing.

“We need to go,” Harry said, glancing around the place. “We just broke out of Gringotts on a dragon and--”

“You broke out of Gringotts? On a dragon?!” Hermione exclaimed, her eyes narrowed nervously.

“We got another horcrux?” Harry offered, pulling out the goblet that he had found. “Jon got a weapon too, if that helps.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Mate, you really broke out of Gringotts?” Ron echoed, his eyes wide. “How was that like?”

“It was awesome!” Harry said, his heart beating so very fast as the thought of what they had just done impacted him. “I wonder if Gringotts will allow me access to my vaults again…”

“Oh, now you think of that,” Hermione muttered, before sighing. “If you say we need to go then let’s go. Pick somewhere random to apparate to.”

Harry nodded, glancing to Jon before beginning to pack.

  
  


* * *

 

 

As the four of them settled down to sleep in the Forest of Dean, they could hear Ghost howling outside, going for a hunt. Harry had figured that the wolf would be okay on a hunt of his own and Jon had agreed. Kreacher had packed some meat for Ghost though, in the event of them having to forgo letting Ghost hunt.

Hermione and Ron had both fallen asleep first, gone to bunk in the tent. Jon was sitting on one of the logs around the campfire, staring into the fire. Harry was sitting next to him, glancing down at the two eggs that they had found in Dumbledore’s vault.

“Your new sword is apparently like Godric’s,” Harry remarked, shivering slightly as the evening chill set in. He breathed out a deep breath and reached inside himself for the natural heat and sighed as he grew warmer. The rain that had fallen during the day had just abated and now everything was wet and misty. The stars were shining brightly down on them and the moon was only half full. “Takes in that which makes it stronger. Jon?”

“You’re okay with me being a Targaryen?” Jon questioned, turning to look at him with narrowed grey eyes.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“King Aerys Targaryen was known as Mad King Aerys.”

“That was your grandfather,” Harry said, elbowing Jon. “I hardly think that madness would have traveled to you, what with your mother and father not being related.”

“What if I become--”

“Hold on. No one’s going mad under my watch,” Harry argued, staring right into Jon’s eyes. “You’re both a Stark and a Targaryen, Jon. I hardly think you will have that problem. Besides, you have a prophecy about you and that never goes wrong.”

Jon blinked then broke out into quiet laughter. Harry grinned, inched closer to him, reached out to curl an arm about Jon’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Jon stiffened before groaning and leaning further into Harry. They melted into each other and Jon’s heart skipped a beat as Harry licked his way into his mouth, nipping once or twice.

The fire crackled in front of them especially loudly after a minute and they pulled back, both breathing heavily and eyes wide with arousal. Jon leaned his forehead against Harry’s, the warmth from the other man leaking into him as the fire crackled again. The only sounds were their breathing as they caught their breath.

“Do you want to take the throne?” Harry finally questioned, keeping his arm around Jon’s waist to hold him there.

“I don’t need to, do I? Robert’s already sitting on the throne,” Jon remarked quietly, gripping Harry’s other hand. “Besides, no one would welcome a Targaryen on the throne again.”

The quiet whistle drew their attention down to where the eggs were… Or had been. Harry blinked and Jon’s eyes widened, hearing and feeling Ghost come back at the same time. Two dragons sat where the eggs had been, both toddling in place.

One gold dragon and one silver dragon.

Jon stared down at them and watched as the silver dragon peered up at him, its’ white eyes focused on him.

“Ah… Look at that. You already fit the requirements,” Harry whispered, grinning a little and reaching out a hand for the golden dragon to sniff.

“Harry…” Jon trailed off, his voice shaky with awe and a fair amount of exasperation. His heart raced within his chest at the sight.

“We’re in a magic rich environment,” Harry offered, as he stroked the golden dragon’s head and back.

The silver dragon toddled over towards him, bumping its’ head against his head. Ghost trotted over, still the size of a pup, and lowered down to sniff the baby dragon, his tail down and apprehensive. The dragon let out a quiet whistle towards the direwolf and Ghost’s red eyes narrowed but otherwise didn’t move as the dragon inspected him.

Jon grinned hesitantly and turned around to tug Harry into another kiss, unsure whether Harry had been japing with him. Harry grinned and pulled Jon closer, kissing as if to mark now, hot and wet. Someone let out a groan and Jon was half sure it was him as they moved together, thoughts of thrones lost to warm, wet kisses.

  


* * *

 

 

It took nearly seven months for Harry, Jon, Hermione and Ron to find every horcrux. They listened to the radio station that Dean had started and enjoyed hearing rumors of Ghost appearing everywhere to annoy the Death Eaters. The two dragons, named Godric and Lyandra, had grown so fast and so big that there was no keeping them secret anymore.

Harry helped Jon learn how to warg into Ghost at times, to scout ahead or to simply enjoy running on four legs. And Ghost was now four times bigger than he had been as a pup, perhaps the size of an English pony.

“Are you sure the last one is in Hogwarts?” Jon questioned, as they appeared by the Shrieking Shack. Lyandra, Jon’s silver dragon, flew above them, closely followed by Godric, the golden beast. Ghost loped around the forest behind them, keeping watch on their camp. Ron and Hermione had followed Neville through a hidden tunnel into the castle to rally the students and to alert the survivors of the Order.

“I… I think it is. I can feel it close anyway,” Harry answered, thinking of the last horcrux they had found and destroyed. It had burned up in dragon fire after the dragons had grown old enough to sustain a flame for a minute.

Jon nodded, looking up at Lyandra as the she-dragon flew loops in the sky. He watched as she flew between the clouds and then seemed to hover for a second before dipping down, heading to the ground to land. “I am never warging into her mind again.”

Harry grinned a little, peering at him. “Flying is an acquired taste, I suppose.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Flying is one thing. Warging into the mind of a dragon is another.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Harry said, as they watched Lyandra land near them and lope over to Jon’s side. “See you on the other side then.”

Jon nodded before walking up on Lyandra’s foreleg and settling himself onto her back, feeling his bond with her fill with excitement. This bond between them was unlike the one he had had with the dragon from the wizarding bank. This one felt strong and permanent, with the she-dragon able to feel whenever Jon needed help.

Lyandra waited until he was settled before leaping up into the air and flying straight to the castle. Jon looked down at the ground, seeing the white flash of Ghost loping towards Harry. The direwolf would be following Harry during whatever battle came their way.

  


* * *

 

 

“Mr Potter, are the dragons…” Professor McGonagall trailed off, as they watched both dragons fly about the castle, letting out roars towards the approaching Death Eaters and Snatchers.

“They’re on our side,” Harry said, gesturing to the silver one. Ghost stood at his feet, quiet but alert, his ears perked up to listen. “The rider on that one is my boyfriend and the golden one is mine.”

Minerva blinked and peered at Harry Potter, looking over her previous student. “You’ve certainly been busy.”  

“In more ways than one,” Harry replied, grinning widely before taking off after Luna for the Ravenclaw common room.

 

* * *

 

 

Voldemort cursed another Death Eater as they witnessed one of the dragons burn up a giant. The wizarding shield was down around the castle and the battles were fierce, student against adult and through it all, Voldemort could see Harry, his mortal enemy flanked by his friends.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air and he hissed out a breath, seeing the giant wolf next to Harry take down another one of his minions. The wolf leapt at the Snatcher’s throat, ripping it out within minutes. Blood spurted out, covering the nearest stone posts.

Greyback roared and charged Potter and his friends before the white blur collided with him. The wolf was silent in its’ attack, fangs bared and ears pinned as it attacked, no sound coming from its’ throat.

“Get the wolf!” Voldemort shouted, his voice magnified by magic. He spotted the silver dragon and its’ rider again, as they dipped down to hover in the courtyard. The dragon blew out a gust of flame at another Death Eater that wasn’t paying attention, burning the guy to ash within seconds. Screams echoed throughout the stone castle.

  


* * *

 

 

“I’ve got to,” Harry whispered, adrenaline flowing through his body, sweat dripping down his back and magic flaring around him. Jon stood in front of him, holding his sword in one hand, the blade dripping with blood and glowing slightly from the curses it had absorbed.

“Harry. You heard the monster,” Jon muttered, looking at him with narrowed grey eyes. “He will kill you.”

“I have to. The memories… What my mother caused… Jon…” Harry stopped, looking to Ron and Hermione before refocusing on Jon. “Do you want me to take you back to Westeros?”

Jon stilled, taking a step closer to him. Ghost stood between them, his fangs and claws bloody. The direwolf’s fur was coated in blood too, droplets of blood and bits of brain matter strewn across the white fur. “No. I am staying with you.”

“Even though I might die and then you would be stuck here?”

“Aye, I am.”

Harry sucked in a tight breath before tugging Jon into a brief but intense kiss, walking off a moment later. Ghost’s tail lowered even more but he stayed put, trotting off a minute later. Jon watched Harry go and turned to look at Ron and Hermione, seeing Hermione dry her tears.

  


* * *

  


“HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!”

  


Neville was a little apprehensive when the giant wolf that was Jon’s came up to him but when Voldemort’s snake slithered towards him, he charged. The wolf charged with him, not even making a sound as wolf and snake collided with a loud thump. Neville drew Gryffindor’s sword, watching as the wolf bit into the snake. The snake screamed, turning around to bite into the wolf’s fur and Neville stepped in, swinging the blade right at Nagini’s head, slicing it clean off.

The wolf swayed before him as the snake fell to the floor, dead. Neville winced as the giant wolf collapsed to the stone floor, twitching and writhing, “Jon!”

He could hear one of the dragon’s roaring outside and then he heard the loud thump of one of them landing, with Jon running in a second later. “Neville! Ghost?”

“Nagini bit him,” Neville said, his heart beating so very fast. “Harry?”

“He’s okay. He has his cloak,” Jon whispered, reaching out to stroke Ghost’s fur. “Come on, boy. Harry said there was a wing with...”

“Hospital wing? Right this way,” Neville said, gesturing over to the great entry way and the stairs. He watched as Jon scooped up Ghost and then led Harry’s boyfriend up to the top floor, to the hospital wing.

 

* * *

  
  


The sun rose on the morning Harry defeated Voldemort, with two dragons flying outside and Jon by his side. The remaining aurors had arrived to clean up and celebrate and the great hall had been haphazardly filled with tables and laughter again. The Weasleys had come out all okay and Ron and Hermione had kissed.

“Is Ghost okay?”

“Your lady said she would do her best,” Jon whispered, leaning against Harry and feeling him do the same.

“Pomfrey is the best healer I know of. If anyone can heal that snake bite, it’s her. And Ghost’s pretty tough. If nothing works, I can drip a few tears on him,” Harry said, glancing out at the hall. Everyone was sitting together, no separation between houses. Harry grinned and turned to Jon. “How about we go home after Ghost gets better?”

“Home? Westeros is my home but yours…”

“I’d prefer somewhere that doesn’t know me by the boy who lived,” Harry explained, shrugging. “I killed Voldemort. I’m done here.”

  


* * *

 

 

“Easy, Ghost,” Harry whispered, letting the direwolf lean on him as he said goodbye to Hermione and Ron. Ghost was between him and Jon, supported by the both of them. Pomfrey had removed every single bit of the venom just in time but it had left Ghost weak. Jon had offered to carry him but Ghost had swayed away from either of them so they let him be. The warmth from the wolf melted into him and he grinned, seeing Ron and Hermione hug. “It’s about time.”

Ron laughed and Hermione snorted, wiping away a few tears.

Lyandra and Godric flanked the three of them, their hot breath steaming onto them. The big beasts were of course coming with them and both their riders could feel their almost eager need to explore Westeros.

“Harry, I packed your trunk for you,” Hermione said, her hand tightly gripping Ron’s. “Be safe and have… have fun. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

Harry snorted and Jon sighed.

“You know me and trouble,” Harry said, grinning a little. “I might come back soon. It’s not like this is permanent.”

He reached inside himself, pulling on the phoenix powers that he had developed and wrapped them around Ghost, Jon, Lyandra and Godric. They vanished within a minute and reappeared in Westeros, right in the courtyard of Winterfell.

Everyone one around them froze, stopped what they were doing. Mikken, the blacksmith, stilled. Hodor trembled then ran off in the direction of Old Nan’s room.

Harry and Jon exchanged glances, noting the stillness and emptiness of the keep.

“What happened while I was gone?” Jon muttered, glancing around for Robb or Lord Stark or even Lady Catelyn. They saw Maester Luwin come out of the keep and hurried over to greet him.

Luwin’s eyes widened as he saw them and the two dragons behind them. “Jon? What in the name of the Seven has happened?”

“I’m a Targaryen. Where is everyone?”

Luwin dipped his head in a nod, still more than slightly frozen in shock. “Lord Stark went south with the king, to be his Hand, and is now a prisoner of the Queen and the new King Joffrey. Your brother, Robb, went south with the full host of the North and your mother to rescue him. Bran fell from the tower and now can’t walk. Sansa and Arya are captives of the crown. The riverlands are on fire.”

“Uh… Can we go back to England?” Harry questioned faintly, exchanging a bewildered look with Jon, who looked as shocked as he did. At Maester Luwin’s look, Harry shrugged. “I was joking. Mostly.”

Jon snorted. “Too much trouble for you?”

“I was joking!” Harry argued, turning around and following Jon. Ghost loped over and into the godswood as they heard the joyful howls of Summer and Shaggydog. He climbed up onto Godric’s back, watching as Jon did the same with Lyandra, and the dragons leapt up into the air with one smooth stride.


	5. Chapter 5

The bells rang all throughout the city in an eerie tone, with the sun rising in the sky to accompany them. People flocked to the Sept of Baelor and Arya followed them, keeping to the alley ways to avoid notice from the gold cloaks and Lannister soldiers. Her heart beat so fast she thought it would jump out of her chest as she ran up the stairs. She wondered if the Queen was dead too and hoped that that was the case, that it was why the bells were being rung.

She ran up multiple sets of stairs and ran into the mob of people that were standing before the great sept. She jumped up onto her tip toes, trying to see what people were seeing, and listened. She heard jeering and booing, people muttering about the traitorous Hand of the King. She wished Nymeria was here. That would make people move out of her way. She wished… She squeezed her way up and onto the statue of Baelor, the septon-king, and stared, as she saw her father get pulled out from the dungeons.

Her heart did flips in her chest as she took in the sight before her, seeing the King’s Justice, Ser Ilyn Payne, stand behind Ned. Her father was standing on the stone before the steps up to the Sept and her sister was standing right next to the Queen and the new King Joffrey. 

“I am Eddard Stark, Hand of the King. I knowingly committed treason. Before my king was dead, I plotted to kill his son and take the throne for myself.”

The jeers and hisses grew in volume and Arya reached for Needle, the sword that Jon had given her before he had left. She wished he was here now and mayhaps he could rescue their father. Someone threw a rotten piece of bread at Ned and it hit him right on his head. She watched as he was pushed back upright by one of Joffrey’s kingsguard then continued on.

“Joffrey Baratheon is the rightful heir to the throne,” Ned spoke, his skin pale and favoring his right leg. 

 

* * *

 

 

Arya jumped off of the statue and headed right for the platform, only to be caught. She heard Grand Maester Pycelle speak but she missed it, the crowd getting louder and angrier.

“The Queen has asked me to send the traitor to the Night’s Watch. My Lady Sansa has asked me to pardon her father,” King Joffrey said, as Arya watched. Sansa smiled at Joffrey and Arya grimaced. She wouldn’t marry Joffrey if he was the last boy in Westeros. 

“They are women with soft hearts! Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!” Joffrey shouted, smirking in glee.

Arya froze and glared up at the man who had caught her, finally recognizing Yoren from the Night’s Watch. “Let me go!”

Sansa screamed and Arya could see her sister being held back by someone. There was chaos on the dais, the Queen muttering to her son to stop this. Ser Ilyn was putting on his executioner hood and Arya yelled again, kicking out at Yoren to let her go. The sun disappeared from the sky and a even louder, inhuman roar filled the air. People screamed as they looked up and some jeered, throwing stuff at the traitorous lord.

Yoren held her fast and Sansa screamed again.

Arya tried to get away from Yoren again, tried to catch a glimpse of her father. Ned had been forced to kneel at the executioner’s block and Ser Ilyn was drawing Ice out of its’ sheath.

Another roar drew her attention and she blinked, freezing at the sight. Her eyes went wide as she watched the two… dragons circle in to land. Her breath caught and people fled from the beasts while the goldcloaks and Lannister men drew bows. Dragons. Dragons were in Westeros. One gold and one silver and… Jon. Jon was on the back of the silver one, as both dragons came into drop down onto the wall behind her father and the Lannister men. 

The gold dragon dropped down onto the stone ground, flattening the flags of the sept and letting out a loud roar. Joffrey yelled out and the dragon blinked its’ golden red eyes at him and snapped. Arya laughed and Yoren’s grip loosened just the tiniest amount, allowing her to flee.

“I believe you have something of ours, King Joffrey,” Harry spoke, from where he was on the back of the golden dragon.

The silver dragon dropped down too, only landing in front of Ned. Arya watched as Jon dropped down, drawing a blade that shone like Valyrian steel. She ran through the last remaining people and right up to Jon, who startled, eyes widening a little. 

“You’re a dragon rider?!” Arya exclaimed over the loud sounds of the crowd fleeing. 

Jon nodded, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “I am. I missed you, Arya.”

“I missed you too! Father!”

Arya and Sansa both collided as they ran over to their father. Ned let out a strangled cry and wrapped them both up in a tight hug. “My girls. I am sorry.”

“Lady Sansa, Lord Stark…”

“Littlefinger…” Ned trailed off, as he pulled away from them.

Jon and Harry were both standing in front of the three of them and the two dragons were flanking them. Joffrey and the Queen had long since been pulled into a the circle of kingsguard and Lannister guards, their faces pale. Joffrey was still shouting at the guards to stop them and Arya laughed as one did try, only to get burned to ashes by the gold dragon.

Lord Baelish approached them and the silver dragon hissed out a warning, its’ wings flaring threateningly. Two Lannister guards flanked him, the men walking around the dragon entirely only to meet Jon’s blade.

Harry backed up to them, meeting Arya’s eyes. “Long time no see. Lord Stark.”

Arya saw Jon impale one of the Lannister men and cut off the hand of another with a quick swipe of his sword. 

“Harry.” Ned said, his voice dry and weak but steady. “I was under the belief that you were japing about giving my nephew a dragon.”

Harry paled, grinned a little. “It wasn’t my idea for the eggs to hatch. Anyway, they’ll make for a quick getaway.”

“Lord Stark, I apologize-”

Another scream filled the air and was quickly cut off as the silver dragon reached out and snapped up Lord Baelish, biting into him and breaking him into pieces. Blood and guts sprayed everywhere and Sansa paled but didn’t move from Ned’s side. 

Jon walked back to them after taking care of another goldcloak. “We need to go.”

“Can you walk?” Harry questioned, catching Lord Stark’s eyes. 

“I can.” Ned slowly stood up, staring at the two dragons that were keeping people from getting even remotely close to them. “Prince Jon Targaryen.”

Jon stiffened, his shoulders curling inward, but dipped his head in a nod. 

Sansa blinked and Arya raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a Prince and a Targaryen?” Arya questioned, her eyes wide.

“Let’s discuss this later,” Jon murmured, grinning a little. “Arya, you can either ride Godric or Lyandra. Your choice.”

“Lyandra?” Ned echoed, falling a little before Harry caught him. 

“I named her after my mother,” Jon explained, gesturing to the silver beast. “Godric’s Harry’s.”

“You had best come with me, Lord Stark,” Harry spoke, raising his voice a little over Joffrey’s shouting. “I can keep an eye on your leg that way.”

Arya followed Jon over to his dragon, taking Jon’s helping hand in climbing onto the back of the silver beast. She grinned, settling in and grabbing ahold of a spike and watched as Sansa followed. She could see Harry helping Ned aboard the other dragon and as soon as Sansa was settled, the dragon beneath them jumped up into the air.

They left behind King’s Landing on dragon wings, swooping just a little ways beneath the clouds.

  
  


* * *

 

 

It was dark by the time they reached the riverlands and Harry could see multiple fires burning on their way to Riverrun. The moon and stars were out, shining down on the river below them as they flew above it. They had followed the kingsroad before turning west towards the seat of the riverlands and where Robb and Catelyn were. 

Jon had seen the banners of House Stark on the ground as they were flying to King’s Landing but they had both decided to go to the capital first. And Harry had seen Jon’s grimace when they had arrived in King’s Landing and had seen the steps leading to the Sept.

Ned was sitting behind him on Godric’s back and Harry had had to cast two healing spells in the air, one to clean up the infection and the other to further mend the injury. They saw the torches of the camps before they saw Riverrun and he could see various men and horses walking about the Northern camps, some yelling about the dragons they were seeing.

Jon and Lyandra were flying ahead and Harry saw Jon turn around, only to point at a clearing near the Stark camp. Harry nodded and Godric followed the she-dragon down to the ground. Arya jumped down without any hesitation, exclaiming about being able to ride a dragon. Sansa more or less slid down, still pale and shocked over what had happened in King’s Landing.

They were greeted by Ser Rodrik and Robb, whose eyes were wide and getting wider. A crowd of northerners gathered around them, giving the dragons a wide berth. Harry didn’t particularly recognize any of them but he figured he would in time.

“My lord!”

“Father!”

Harry helped Ned down, keeping his aid subtle, before they both saw Lady Catelyn race over. The Lady of Winterfell was shocked, her blue eyes wide before Catelyn hurried over to embrace Ned, tears falling down her face. 

Jon sidled over to Harry’s side and they both exchanged glances, smiling a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of veered off from the 5+1 things but I figure I'll just finish off what I was planning. There will be one more chapter to go with this story.
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying it!


	6. Chapter 6

“Renly crowned himself king and Stannis was crowned king by most of his bannermen,” Ned remarked, his grey eyes narrowed, as they ate the last meal of the day. Edmure Tully sat next to him, having taken on most of the duties of the Lord of Riverrun since Hoster was abed. Catelyn sat on his other side, his hand on her lap under the table. Her eyes were still red from crying, the thought of almost losing her husband had struck her. 

The riverlords and the northern lords were sitting along the long table in the hall, shouting back and forth to each other. The laughter and shouts were broken occasionally by a roar by the two dragons outside Riverrun, the creatures having not followed Jon and Harry into the courtyard. The northern lords had been quite joyful this evening, having gotten their liege lord back and his two daughters. Robb sat with Theon, Sansa, Arya at the corner of the table, near Ned and Catelyn. Jon and Harry sat across from them, whispering together.

His children’s wolves were at their feet, with the exception of Lady and Nymeria and of course Summer and Shaggydog, who were still at Winterfell. 

Jon Umber, Maege Mormont, Roose Bolton, Rickard Karstark and Wylis Manderly were all crowded in front of Ned, grinning widely. 

“You should have seen Robb at the head of the northern army,” Greatjon Umber remarked, his voice loud in the hall. “Scared the Lannisters out of the riverlands!”

Robb’s cheeks reddened subtly and Ned’s lips twitched up into a slight grin. “I am proud of you, Robb. You led the North in my stead.”

“In defense of you, father,” Robb said, gesturing to the lords. “And of mother’s lands. The Mountain still rides in these lands, burning and raping and pillaging.”

“What happened in King’s Landing?” Lady Maege questioned, glancing at Ned with interest in her eyes. “We all received letters from… King Stannis… regarding Robert’s children. And… is Jon really your bastard?”

“I will address Jon’s family later,” Ned answered, looking over to his nephew. Jon definitely looked… older, more comfortable somehow, after whatever had taken place while he was gone. Ghost was a lot bigger and Jon had come back with dragons. “I was about to be executed when Jon and Harry landed in King’s Landing and rescued me and my daughters. I am grateful to them.”

“Executed?” Catelyn echoed, her skin going pale beside him. She reached over to grip his hand tightly at the thought. “Surely Queen Cersei knew enough to perhaps send you to the Night’s Watch.”

“We would have stopped your group, my lord,” Roose Bolton remarked, dipping his head in a nod. Ned raised an eyebrow in his direction, looking Roose over subtly. “If Lannister men brought you north, we would have ambushed them.”

“I am sure you would have, Roose,” Ned commented, staring at the man before turning to Maege and the Greatjon. “It was King Joffrey who commanded my beheading. And it is King Joffrey who does not have a true claim to the throne.”

Nearly every northern and riverland lord who was in hearing distance stopped to stare at Ned.

“The Queen confessed to having children with her brother,” Ned explained, at the questioning stares. “Robert’s children are not trueborn Baratheons nor are they heirs to the throne.”

“Did she kill Jon Arryn?” Catelyn asked, smiling at Sansa and Arya before turning back to her husband.

“I do not know if she did but Lord Arryn did find out the truth before he died,” Ned said, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “Robert was killed by a boar while out on a hunting trip. I am sure the Queen had something to do with it, be it drugging his drink or buying off one of the huntsmen. I do not know for certain though.”

“That means Myrcella and Tommen are bastards too,” Brynden remarked, his blue eyes narrowed. 

“Littlefinger suggested wedding Myrcella to Robb,” Ned said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “He betrayed me in the throne room. Cat…”

“Petyr was always considerate of me but I will not speak to him again,” Catelyn murmured, grimacing. “What of Jon? Where did he go?”

“I journeyed with Harry and helped him win his war,” Jon spoke, raising his voice to be heard over the lords. “I fought with him and he and I have become brothers in arms.”

Harry nodded at Jon’s words. “I am staying here from now on. Something’s coming and I intend on being here for it.”

“The dragons? Are you really Lord Stark’s bastard?” Roose questioned, as every head turned to Jon.

“I am Prince Jon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. I have made my peace with it,” Jon remarked quietly, dipping his head in a nod and looking around at all of the lords. “I am not a bastard as some may have thought. My mother wed my father right before they died.”

The hall filled with mutters and whispers, some people looking at Ned and then back to Jon as he sat back down. Catelyn stared at Jon in shock, her eyes wide and heart beating. She had wished Jon dead, had wished that Ned had never come back north with a bastard. She had thought Jon had proved a threat to Robb’s inheritance. She paled, thinking of the rebellion and Ned’s sister. Jon… was an heir to the throne now.

If Rhaegar had lived and his children with Elia had lived, Jon would have never sat the throne. Now… 

“What are we to do now?” Greatjon questioned, glancing between Robb and Ned. “We have you back but with Stannis and Renly vying for throne…”

“Joffrey has no right to the throne,” Lord Tytos Blackwood said, crossing his arms. “Nor does Tommen.”

“Are we to find one of Robert’s bastards?” One of the more minor riverlands lords asked, looking down at all of the other men.

“No! We’re not having a bastard sit the throne!” 

“Well then, are we going to fight for Stannis?” Lady Maege questioned, peering at Ned. Her daughter was sitting next to Robb, having numbered amongst his personal guards during the fight to break the siege of Riverrun. 

“Stannis is too stern! Too cold. He won’t do.”

“Nor would Renly! He plays at war over in the south.”

“Would having Joffrey sit the throne be so bad?”

Sansa paled from her seat next to her sister and Catelyn’s heart skipped a beat at her daughter’s grimace. She wondered what her daughters had experienced, alone and in a den of lions. Sansa had been shock silent ever since the three had arrived at Riverrun.

Ned cleared his throat and every lord in the great hall fell silent, regardless of whether they were riverland men or northern men. “We put a Targaryen on the throne.”

Silence filled the hall for several minutes as every head turned to Jon. A roar of a dragon pierced the air, loud and sounding full of pride. Then yells and shouts filled the hall, some arguing for Jon while others arguing against another Targaryen.

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

Jon stiffened, feeling Harry discreetly elbow him, as Ned peered at him, dipping his head in a nod. He glanced towards his friend, his… lover… seeing Harry’s green eyes go soft. Ghost nudged his head into his lap and he could sense Lyandra’s pride of her rider through their bond. The she-dragon had bonded fully with him and now he could sense her emotions and she his.

He stood up, drawing his Stark cloak tighter about his shoulders, and strode over to the dais, looking over the assembled group of lords. He thought on his experiences in the past year, with Harry in his home world. He thought about his past, his mother and father. He wondered if his father, Rhaegar, would be proud of him. He remembered watching as Harry spoke to his friends and allies before the final battle and tried to draw from that.

“My lords, enough.”

At his words, another silence filled the hall, though this one was less stilted than the previous quiet. This was more… curious, less taut. 

“I may not be known to many of you. The Northerners know me as Lord Stark’s bastard. I thought myself a bastard until a year and a moon’s turn ago,” Jon remarked, his silver steel blade at his hip and Ghost at his side. He had yet to think of a name for his sword and Harry was on the job still, pondering names. “I was going to sign up with the Night’s Watch. That all changed when I learned of my true parentage. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark were wed before they traveled apart and before my father was killed at the Trident.”

“I may not have much governing experience but I learn quickly. The Seven Kingdoms are a mess right now and King Robert is dead. Stannis and Renly are fighting each other while Joffrey is a monster. He ordered Lord Stark’s death and Queen Cersei confessed to him that her children’s father is the kingslayer. The smallfolk of the riverlands are refugees and many of the castles in the riverlands are on fire. I saw a lot of death while I was with Harry in his world and I would not like to cause more. I am a good fighter but, like my father, I do not enjoy killing. 

Westeros needs a good king now and if you men are inclined to follow me, I will be your king.”

Jon took a deep breath, spared a glance at Harry, who winked at him, and waited. Waited for the lords and Lady Maege to think about what they wanted.

“A Targaryen raised a Wolf. I’ll follow King Jon Targaryen,” Lady Maege Mormont spoke first, standing up and kneeling. “The White Dragon.”

“I will follow my cousin,” Robb said, standing up and following Maege’s example and kneeling.

Jon froze, remembering his and Robb’s games when they were younger. Robb used to play the king while Jon played the knight. This time it was reversed. 

“The riverlands will follow the White Dragon,” Ser Brynden called out, getting up and dipping his head in a nod. Edmure did the same, kneeling before the king.

“THE WHITE DRAGON!”

Everyone was kneeling before him, their swords drawn and impaled in the ground before them. Sansa, Arya, Lady Catelyn, Robb and everyone else. Harry was kneeling too, glancing up at Jon through his wild hair. Jon nodded, looking down at each lord and lady, memorizing their faces. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

“We’ll need to find you a queen,” Ned said, as the evening wore on. The lords had left just a few minutes ago, cheering on their new king. It was just Jon, Harry, Ned, Robb, and Brynden Tully. 

“A wife?” Jon echoed, blinking once or twice. 

Ned looked at him, peering at Harry before turning back to Jon. “I know you and Harry have a bond. You’re king now though.”

“You’ll need a small council and a kingsguard. But the small council can wait until we’re in King’s Landing,” Brynden suggested, crossing his arms. “It will be no small thing, fighting our way to the capital. We will need alliances.”

Ned nodded, as servants started to come in to clean. “The Vale will need to be persuaded.”

“Lysa will not come easily,” Brynden remarked, his eyes narrowing.

“If I know enough of my family’s history,” Jon started, leaning a little into Harry’s side enough that he felt the warmth coming from the other man but not enough to be noticed. “Visenya Targaryen took care of the Vale on top of Vhagar.”

Robb grinned, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ll need a banner then.”

“Renly will need to be talked too and so will Stannis. I don’t know about Dorne but a betrothal could sway them. The westerlands however…”

“I was going to invade the westerlands,” Robb offered, glancing down to the map at the table in front of them. “I could lead the army.”

Ned blinked, looking his son before turning to his nephew and newly named king. “Jon?”

“The North will follow Robb easily. Let him have the lead. Harry, you will go with them. I will go talk with Lady Lysa,” Jon said, feeling Harry’s hand land on his palm. He saw him nod his acceptance to the plan and Robb grinned.

“I will have a crown made for you,” Ned said, standing up to go up to the quarters he was sharing with Catelyn. He was looking forward to going home but that would have to wait. Catelyn would also probably like to go home ahead of him so there was that journey to plan and Jon to aid. And winter to plan and prepare for.

Jon nodded, studying the map in detail, before glancing up to Lord Stark, who was now his Warden of the North. “Thank you, my lord.”

Ned frowned before sighing, his eyes soft with pride. “Your Grace.”

“You are dismissed.”

Ned and Brynden both stood up, followed by Robb, and walked out of the great hall.

“Fuck.” Jon grimaced, fully turning to look at Harry, who grinned and tugged him into a kiss, desperate and hot. Jon groaned into it, feeling Harry push off his cloak and wrap an arm around his neck. Ghost and Grey Wind had gone off for a hunt so they were alone in the great hall, the king and his wizard. 

“King Jon Targaryen…” Harry trailed off, licking his way into Jon’s mouth. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his stomach roiled briefly, the hall disappearing from view and his room taking its’ place. 

“Harry…” Jon arched into his fingers as Harry slipped his hand underneath Jon’s tunic, touching skin. Goose pimples trailed up his skin as they moved, stepping towards the bed that was covered with furs. 

“You can do this,” Harry whispered, nudging Jon back onto the bed and pulling off his boots and slipping between Jon’s legs. “I’ll follow you.”

“I never…” Jon groaned as Harry slowly drew him into another kiss. “I never wanted to be king.”

“I think I’m supposed to say that that makes you ready and the appropriate person,” Harry remarked, leaning his forehead against Jon’s. “You are the right person though. Better than Joffrey and better than Renly, from what I’ve heard. And miles better than your grandfather on your father’s side.”

“Anyone would be better than the Mad King. Are you sure you are okay with me taking a wife?” Jon questioned, letting out a whine as Harry trailed a line of kisses up his throat. His cock hardened in his leggings and his heart sped up, beating quickly as one of Harry’s hands made its’ way down. “Westeros does expect its’ king to have a queen.”

“I’m okay with it,” Harry said, his lips twitching up into a teasing grin. “I know you’re mine.”

Jon moaned as Harry’s hand traced its’ way south, lightly hovering over his cock. “I’m yours, yes.”

Jon bucked up into Harry’s hand as he stroked once, twice, before withdrawing. Harry raised an eyebrow at him, looking him over. “Are you sure about this?”

“Harry, I never signed up for the Night’s Watch.”

Harry grinned and slowly pulled off his own leggings before drawing off Jon’s.  They moved together, slick with sweat and came together. Harry slowly opened Jon up, with a vial of lotion, enjoying the utterly needy sounds coming from the king beneath him. Jon’s arms came up around his back, holding him still, holding him there.

Harry slid a pile of furs underneath Jon’s arse as he moved down, kissing as he trailed south. Someone moaned and Jon was pretty sure it was him as Harry finally slid into him. He gasped at the feeling of being full of someone, someone he loved. Someone who fully understood him. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he arched his back, as Harry stopped to let him adjust.  

Jon took a deep breath, feeling his muscles burn and stretch, taking a minute or two to adjust to being breached then exhaled, urging Harry on. Sweat dripped down onto him from Harry’s bare chest and Jon ran a finger along the scar on Harry’s forehead. Harry grinned at him, his green eyes wide with arousal.

Jon nodded then Harry started to move again, thrusting in and out. Each movement produced tiny sparks of pleasure within him and when Harry hit the spot, he cried out, shuddering with the intense feeling. Heat grew in Jon’s belly as he groaned, feeling so much pleasure that he thought he would implode, spiraling into release. 

He saw stars, pleasure jolting throughout his body. Harry came too, lazily wrapping a hand around Jon’s cock to stroke him through his climax and then dazedly, Jon felt him pull out. They both laid there, breathing heavily, limp and relaxed before Harry slowly drew Jon into his arms, falling asleep within a few minutes.

  
  


* * *

 

 

They woke up the next morning to Ghost jumping up onto the bed, having scratched at the door. Harry sleepily blinked awake, laying a kiss on Jon’s neck as he heard Jon’s breathing pick up to awakeness. 

“Hey, boy,” Jon murmured, reaching down to pet the direwolf. 

Harry yawned and reached for his trunk idly, the one that he had brought with him, and stuck his hand in, reaching for fresh clothes. His hand encountered a vial and was about to throw it back when it warmed in his hand. He raised an eyebrow and brought it out, seeing the smoky liquid in it that indicated a memory.

“Did you bring a pensieve?” Jon questioned, glancing over at him curiously. 

“No. I guess I should have… but… I can probably…” Harry spoke a word or two in Latin, drawing on a spell that he had seen in a book somewhere over the past year. Magic filled the air, circling in front of them, and Harry spilled out the memory out onto it, watching as the memory started.

His eyes widened and he could see Jon freeze next to him, with Ghost’s ears pinning themselves down. As soon as the memory finished, Harry froze the image, his heart beating double time at the sight.

“Well…”

“Fuck.”

“You could say that again,” Harry whispered, exchanging a look with Jon.

The memory was one from the Night’s Watch deserter that Lord Stark had executed nearly a year ago. It ended on… a white walker. A monster of ice, surrounded by corpses.


End file.
